


turn up the silence, the heartache of your life

by cordsycords



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Post Episode 3x17, post The Jolly Roger
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-14
Updated: 2014-04-14
Packaged: 2018-01-19 07:56:41
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,087
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1461688
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cordsycords/pseuds/cordsycords
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He is almost too slow to stop it when it finally happens.</p>
            </blockquote>





	turn up the silence, the heartache of your life

He is almost too slow to stop it when it finally happens.

It starts with her opening the door to her parent’s apartment. She smiles when she sees him. Or maybe it’s just her boy, trailing behind him as Killian returns him to his mother. She ruffles his hair as he shuffles inside, saying a quiet goodbye to the pirate. Killian lets a small smile escape onto his lips.

“Goodbye, lad.”

Emma comes out into the hallway, closing the door behind her.

“Thank you, again.” She says, her voice sincere. He hesitates to look into her eyes, quickly glancing into them then looking down again. His eyes settle on her lips, then the guilt starts to come again and he knows he has to get out of there, quickly.

“Anytime, Swan.” He replies, as he turns away to walk down the stairs.

“Killian,” She starts again. He pauses and looks back up at her, his true name falling from her tongue surprises him, especially since they are not in the presence of her son.

“Um, do you think that I could come with you. To just, walk around, you know. I’ve been cooped up inside, listening to baby talk all day.” She says nervously. He wants to be able to say no to her.

“Of course, milady. I would despair at the thought of you having to listen to that ‘baby talk’ for a moment longer.” He charms. She chuckles, and joins him on his way down the stairs. He really wishes he had said no.

It is cold outside at night, as they walk down the main street of the small town. The lights around them had a peaceful glow to the street as they walked in silence. A silence that instead of awkward, felt companionable and right. He lets her lead them, walking a touch slower than her so that he may follow her to wherever she desires. She walks straight to the docks, right to the end of the longest pier. The light from the town doesn’t permeate here, although the moon is bright and the stars start to come out in the darkness. The light from the sky casts a shadow on her face.

When they reach the edge of the pier, she slowly sits down on the edge, letting her feet dangle over the water. He stands awkwardly behind her.

“Sit.” She commands. He complies.

“If your ship were still here,” she starts slowly, obviously implying that she has noticed the absence of his beloved Jolly Roger, “Would you have left by now?” She asks, staring at him. He dare not look at her, instead keeping his gaze to the body of the dark water in front of him.

“No.” He states simply.

“Why not?” She asks, moving her body so that her face is in front of his. She can read him almost as well as he can read her. She knows that he is trying to avoid her.

“I don’t know.” He answers. _Lie_ , he thinks to himself. He finally has the courage to look at her. She stares into his eyes when he does. Her head is tilted to the side, and one curl lies wayward across her right cheek. He feels the urge to brush it off, but holds back his hand by clenching it to his side.

“I think you do.” She whispers. Her voice is lower than usual. Looking into her eyes, he can see her pupils dilate, even in the darkness. Her eyes flit between his eyes and his lips. She starts to lean closer, and he responds in kind. His mind is blank, and all he can think about in the moment is her, and how he so badly wants this to happen. He remembers how perfect it was the first time. Remembers how she pulled him to her and how they fit perfectly together.

His brain kicks in almost a second too late. His forehead is rested upon hers, and their noses glance each other as their breath begin to combine. In a violent jolt he realises what he is about to do, and why he cannot. His hand comes up to her chest and quickly pushes her away. When he opens his eyes, she stares back at him, rejected and hurt.

“What are you doing?” She said, angered and staring at him in confusion. He opens his mouth to speak, but no words seem to come to his mind. She tries to kiss him again, but is stopped by his hand planted firmly on his chest.

“Why are you doing this?” The anger starting to dissipate as hurt seethes into her voice.

“I-I-I can’t” He sputters, no other words coming to his mind. A tear slowly fall from her eye. He so badly wants to wipe it away. So badly wants to be able to explain everything to her. To tell her that he can’t kiss her, that he needs her to stay the way she is. That he loves her too much to steal her magic from her. It kills him to know her so well. To know that if he told her the truth, that she would do it, for the sakes of the ones that she loves.

She would hate him for being so selfish, more so than she probably does right now. He stays quiet.

“You can’t?” She accuses, “What the fuck is wrong with you?” She quickly gets up from her spot. He follows her.

“Swan!” He yells as he grabs her shoulder, forcing her to turn around to face him. He doesn’t see her hand as it quickly comes up to slap him in the face.

“Don’t you fucking touch me.” She seethes, “You’re a fucking coward, Hook,” He winces at the use of his moniker, “You try to kiss me in New York, you tell that the fun begins when we get back to Storybrooke. And now we’re here and you push me away.” He wants to say something, but she turns and runs away before he can. He stares as she disappears into the distance, then returns to the edge of the pier. He wishes that he could just fall in to drown at the bottom of the sea.

Behind him he hears the clicking of heels against the wood of the dock. He doesn’t need to turn around to know who it is.

“Well done, pirate. I don’t think I could’ve said it better myself.” She laughs.

_You are a coward, Killian Jones._


End file.
